


Favors for Trade

by Runic



Series: Fire Emblem Explicit One Shots [22]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Praise Kink, Sex for Favors, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic
Summary: He miscalculated. Claude had underestimated the man and found himself offering more than expected for information on the identity of the Flame Emperor. In the end, it was a price he was willing to pay to protect the Alliance...to protect Teach.He never expected to enjoy it quite so much.
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Original Male Character(s), Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Fire Emblem Explicit One Shots [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515212
Comments: 11
Kudos: 117





	Favors for Trade

**Author's Note:**

> ......don't look at me. I don't know where this came from.
> 
> Thank you, Julls, for helping me beta this monster!
> 
> There's honestly not too much violence in here, only a short scene, but I have tagged it just to be safe.

He raised the glass to his lips, draining the last of his wine as the large man settled himself at Claude’s table. He looked more like a mountain than a human, tall enough even Jeralt would have had to look up to him, and almost as broad. Claude ignored the way his heart sped up, knowing that his little game was about to bear fruit.

“You’ve been eyeing me all night,” the man said, his accent smoother than what Claude would have guessed for a blacksmith. “What can I do for you?”

Claude kept the glass up, toying at the hard material with his lips as he assessed the man up close before slowly lowering the flute back to the table. There would be no beating around the bush with this man, he could already tell. There was a fierce satisfaction in his eyes that had goosebumps traveling up Claude’s arms.

“Oh, I don’t need much,” Claude answered, trying to sound blasé about the whole thing. “All I need from you is a single word.”

The blacksmith leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a smirk. For a brief instance Claude felt like he was looking in a mirror with how similar that false smile looked. “This must be a very important word, for the likes of you to come for it yourself.”

A flicker of fear passed through him before Claude managed to suppress it, but the blacksmith had seen it, his smile growing colder. “Oh yes, I know who you are Claude von Riegan, next sovereign duke of the Alliance. Tell me, what are you willing to pay for this little piece of information. And don’t say gold or favors, I have enough of both of those to last me a lifetime.”

A sick churning squeezed his stomach as Claude picked up his glass again, pretending there was still something within it to consume. The man looked smug, confident he would win this game, but the important part was that he was willing to play. “Seems like you’ve already got a price in mind. Why don’t you just tell me, and I’ll let you know if I’m willing to pay.”

That infuriating grin, and yes, he saw now how Teach could become exasperated by it, split the blacksmith’s whole face. He leaned in, Claude doing so as well, his whole body tensed for an attack. 

“I’ve fucked nobles before,” the blacksmith whispered, his words swallowed by the noise from the rest of the tavern, so low only Claude could hear him. It was still a few hours until midnight, and bodies were crammed into the small space, joking and yelling for a drink. And yet, Claude had never felt more distant from the rest of the world. He knew, after those first words, what was coming next. “I have not, however, ever gotten the change to fuck an heir to the throne. You let my men and I have some fun with you, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

His men and him? Claude held his breath, trying to process the punch to the gut the man had just delivered. After that opener, Claude had expected the blacksmith to demand Claude in his bed, but he had not considered he would include others into this game. And he’d never...Claude cut that thought off, only to imagine himself degraded in such a way, surprised at the thrill it sent through him.

But that was not why he was doing this. No, this was not something to satisfy his curiosity. He needed this information to stop whatever it was the Flame Emperor was trying to do.

He needed that name to protect the Alliance.

To protect Teach. 

"And how do I know you and your goons aren't simply going to take me out once you have me alone?" Claude countered over the rim of his glass. It was what he would do after all.

The blacksmith snorted, amused by the suggestion. “Where would the fun in that be?” He shook his head, dark hair falling in front of his face. “I want your ass, not your life, boy.”

Claude mentally swore at himself, catching himself spreading his legs like some common whore beneath the table a second too late. Dark eyes sparked in amusement, broad shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He could not let this get anymore out of hand than it already had.

“Give me some assurance, and I’ll agree to your terms,” Claude said evenly, shrugging as if what he was agreeing to meant nothing to him. Shrugging as if he was perfectly content for this man and his friends to turn him into a slut for the night, as if the thought did not excite him in ways he had only really felt when he thought about Teach or a certain blonde prince on lonely nights.

The blacksmith leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag of his beer. He meant the silence to unsettle Claude, but it was much too novice a tactic to work on someone who had played this tune so often to have every movement memorized even in sleep. (Or so Claude thought of himself. The night would prove just how wrong he was about that.) “Now you’re the one who knows exactly what you want,” he finally said, prompting Claude to continue.

From the folds of his cloak, Claude produced a small vial. The blacksmith was still but relaxed, watching as Claude unstoppered the vial and slowly poured the contents into the man’s beer, emerald eyes meeting black the entire time. 

“It won’t kill you immediately. Won’t even feel the effects until the morning,” Claude said with the same careful calculation that had defined this encounter. “Without the antidote you’ll start to feel feverish, as if your very skin is on fire. After a few hours your fever will rise so high you’ll become delirious. By then, even if you administer a cure you’ll be nothing more than a drooling moron.”

“And with no antidote at all?” the blacksmith asked, staring into the dark liquid.

“Your brain will boil,” Claude answered simply. “If I am back safely to the monastery dorms by morning, I will have the antidote sent to you.”

That infuriating grin spread over the man’s lips again, and he surprised Claude by readily throwing back the mug and draining his beer down to the last drop. “I guess we’ll have to go a little lighter on you than I had planned, given that my life counts on you being able to walk at the end of this.”

Heat rose in his cheeks, the room suddenly suffocating. Perhaps the man was not as clever as Claude was giving him credit for. Or perhaps, his lust ruled more of him than his common sense. Either way, it seemed Claude was about to get in way over his head.

The blacksmith stood, holding out a hand for Claude. The Alliance heir forced himself to take a deep breath, steadying his nerves before taking the assist up. He could not help the small gasp that escaped his lips as he was unexpectedly pulled against the man’s side, face pressed against his chest. The man’s warmth and smell were overwhelming, and Claude found himself more carried than walking up the stairs to the man’s rented room.

The room was sparse, a bed and a table upon which the renter could take meals. The blacksmith deposited Claude across the table. He scrambled to prop himself up on his elbows, catching the sight of three more men entering the room and the door shutting behind them. Claude forced himself to take a deep breath, willing his heart not to beat out of his chest, fighting every instinct that told him to run as the men surrounded him. “Here’s how this will go, my little lord,” the blacksmith taunted. “Every time you make me cum, I’ll give you a piece of the information you want.”

Claude jerked his chin at the other men standing around him. “And them?”

“Oh, they’re just here for fun.”

The blacksmith laughed, a deep rumbling sound that rolled from his chest, as he placed his large hands on Claude’s hips. His thumbs rubbed circles against Claude’s waist, watching with satisfaction in his eyes as Claude shivered under his touch. “Don’t worry,” the large man reassured him. “I’m going to make sure you enjoy this.”

That was part of what Claude was afraid of.

The blacksmith unlaced Claude’s pants without ceremony, two of the other men working on his jacket and shirt. He shivered again as his skin was exposed to the night air, trying not to blush as his pants and underclothes were ripped away, revealing his half hard cock to the men. 

“Have to say, I’m a little sad you felt the need to come in disguise,” the blacksmith half pouted, the motion making him look cruel. He ran his large hand over Claude’s uncovered chest, twisting one of his nipples before they landed on Claude’s thighs. “I would have liked to see you with that cloak on. The yellow looks good on you. Would remind me of just who I’m fucking.”

Anger burned inside Claude as the men laughed, knowing the blush on his cheeks was obvious and hating himself for the thrill of anticipation that shot through him. But the blacksmith did not let him linger on it for long. He pressed at Claude’s legs, spreading the young man open for him. 

The scent of lilac filled the air, and Claude watched as one of the other men, a large scar over his nose making his skin look as if it had a permanent sunburn, passed a bottle of yellow liquid to the blacksmith. One of those large fingers dipped inside the bottle before pressing at Claude’s entrance. He gasped, throwing his head back as the thick digit pressed into him. That low chuckle registered in his ears again, and Claude caught, “I told you this would be pleasurable, boy. Some men may like their conquest bleeding beneath them, but I prefer a smoother ride. And as I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve ever spread your legs to take another man’s cock, you’ll be glad for the preparation.”

Claude said nothing as the man continued to prepare him. Red Nose and the man Claude labeled as Wyvern Fucker for his shifting gaze, and the fact that Claude thought he looked to be the type of man stupid enough to try and fuck a wyvern, unlaced their pants. Claude’s eyes flickered back and forth between their cocks as the two men stroked them in anticipation. The rustling of fabric alerted him that Lorenz - um, no, not going to use that one after all, that Llamrei (named for Lorenz’s horse, who was just as haughty as its master) had unlaced his own pants. 

The blacksmith pressed another oil slick finger inside him, causing Claude to squirm. “He’s enjoying it,” Red Nose pointed out, eyes locked on Claude’s own cock which now stood fully erect as the blacksmith scissored his fingers inside Claude, stretching his hole. 

“Hmm, one more and I think he’ll be ready,” the blacksmith said. Claude gritted his teeth, fingers clawing at the wood as one more finger was pressed inside him. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes as his back arched, torn between wanting more and trying to get away. 

Llamrei grabbed Claude’s hair, pulling his head back. Claude gasped at the sight of the man’s cock right before his face, so close the man shivered as Claude breathed out. But Red Nose and Wyvern Fucker were taking his hands, rubbing small circles against his wrist. It felt like a deep breath before the plunge, and when those large fingers were removed from him, Claude knew that was exactly what it was.

The head of the blacksmith’s cock poked at his entrance, slowly pressing in, filling Claude fuller than his fingers ever could. Claude squirmed, his hips held down by the blacksmith’s calloused hands. His thumbs pressed against Claude’s legs to keep them spread, hard enough Claude knew he would have bruises in the morning. Not that he thought they would be the only battle wounds he would leave with come morning.

Claude’s mouth dropped open in a soundless scream as the blacksmith pressed further into him. Llamrei took advantage of his open mouth, thrusting his cock inside. He did not take the slow pace the blacksmith had set, burying himself within Claude’s wet hole and causing the young man to gag around him. Llamrei pulled back until only the tip of his cock was still in Claude’s mouth, but Claude braced himself for what he knew was coming next. The thrust was rough, Llamrei’s cock sliding over Claude’s tongue. Again and again he repeated the motion, fucking Claude’s mouth and forcing the heir to take the full length of him down his throat each time.

Red Nose and Wyvern Fucker moved his hands to their cocks, forcing his fingers to wrap around them. They guided him the first few strokes, but Claude was a quick study, and soon his hands were working them on their own. “Fuck,” one of them groaned. 

Claude grinned around Llamrei’s cock, twisting his hand around the base of Red Nose’s cock and cupping Wyvern Fucker’s balls. His triumph was short lived. The blacksmith thrusted his hips forward, shoving more of himself within Claude’s body. 

Claude screamed, muffled by the cock in his mouth. The blacksmith laughed, the other men following suit. “That’s only half, little lord,” he taunted. Claude’s heart thudded in his chest. Stars he already felt so full. If that was only half, there was no way he would be able to take the whole thing!

“You don’t gotta worry about him,” Wyvern Fucker laughed, thrusting his hips against Claude’s hands. “He’ll take care o’ ya.”

“Yeah, but don’t forget there are others here,” Red Nose added. The impatient man grabbed Claude’s wrist and forced him to stroke the cock in his hand faster.

Claude closed his eyes, overwhelmed by all of it. The blacksmith pressed further into him, groaning softly as he finally bottomed out. Finally! Above him, Llamrei’s hand tangled in his hair, forcing Claude’s head back so the man could slide more of his cock into Claude’s mouth. Those two were taking care of themselves. Claude needed only focus on the two warm cocks in his hands. 

“Ah fuck,” Wyvern Fucker breathed out.

“There we go,” Red Nose praised. They both thrusted against his hands as Claude worked at them, doing whatever little tricks came to mind to try and get them off. 

He had to get these two off, that was where his attention needed to be. But the blacksmith had pulled back, sinking his cock back into Claude just a hair’s breadth too fast. Llamrei was simply fucking his throat now, his fingers tightening every time Claude moaned around him, pulling painfully tight at his hair. Stars, why did it all feel so good?

The blacksmith angled himself anew, thrusting in once more. He continued to do so, as if searching for something. Claude understood, what when the blacksmith slammed into him, screaming as he saw white. 

They were still fucking him, laughing at him, as Claude resurfaced from his orgasm, his semen painted across his stomach. “Does it feel that good, boy?” the blacksmith asked with that taunting smile. “Must have, for you to cum without anyone even touching your cock. Tell me how much you like it,” he instructed. “Tell me how much you enjoy being stretched on my dick.”

Claude could not even shake his head, reduced to moaning weakly around Llamrei. His hands were still trying to work Red Nose and Wyvern Fucker, but they were more thrusting against him now than anything else. He tightened his grip, and was rewarded with a small ‘fuck,’ which seemed to be the majority of Wyvern Fucker’s vocabulary, as the two men came, one right after the other. Sticky heat splashed across his chest, their semen painting more of his front white.

“Goddess, look at him,” Llamrei whispered. His body tensed as he forced his entire cock into Claude’s mouth, Claude struggling to swallow as thick ropes of cum were shot down his throat. Llamrei groaned as he removed his cock, petting Claude hair back as Claude licked his sore lips. “Good boy. Took your meal like you’ve been doing this for years.”

The blacksmith slammed into Claude once more, drawing his attention back to him alone. Stars above, no one had ever looked at him like that before. His body betrayed him, clenching around the blacksmith. Some of the smugness fell away from his gaze, leaving behind lust mixed with something akin to a warped form of reverence. Claude’s back arched, his body trembling. His ass was being fucked, and he was begging for it like some common whore! Claude moaned softly, fingers clutching the edges of the table in a white knuckled grip as the blacksmith continued, thrusting into Claude so hard he was almost forcing the young man off the table. The sound of wood on wood, flesh on flesh, echoed through the room as the table was moved back.

The blacksmith grabbed Claude’s legs, and Claude moved with him on pure instinct as his legs were wrapped around the blacksmith’s thick waist. He was pulled closer, forced up, his world narrowing to the blacksmith’s face as the man’s body tensed, buried fully within Claude. He felt warmth filling him, not sure how exactly to feel about the whole thing, but knowing his body enjoyed it. His own cock was twitching in interest again, begging for another round.

He was dropped back onto the table, the blacksmith’s large hands caressing up and down his sides. “There you go, good boy,” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down Claude’s spine. Being called a good boy was getting him off so much more than it should. The blacksmith patted Claude’s thigh as he pulled out, Claude trembling yet again at the sudden feeling of emptiness. “Take a minute for yourself. We’re not done yet.”

Claude pushed himself onto his elbows, able to remember why he was here now that their hands were no longer on him. “Hang on, you’ve got your part of the deal to hold up right now.” 

The blacksmith grinned as Llamrei handed him a mug of ale, the other three drinking from their own. He held his hand out for another, which was quickly handed to him, all the while keeping his eyes on Claude’s still spread legs. Claude was not about to close them now, was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing his shame. 

The second mug was pushed into his chest, Claude pushing himself up fully so he could take it, grateful for the liquid as it made its way down his throat, uncaring of the bitter taste it left on his tongue. “Let it not be said I am not a man of my word,” the blacksmith said, pulling up a chair to sit beside Claude.

Claude could not help but wince as he sat forward, irked by the quick smirk on the lips of the man who had taken his virginity. “A piece of information, that was our deal.”

The blacksmith took a moment to take his own large swallow of ale, before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “The man who paid for the armor did so with Alliance coin.”

Claude snorted and shook his head. “So? Anyone could get their hands on Alliance stamped gold. It’s not that hard. If you want to fuck me again you better have something more worth while.”

The blacksmith chuckled, obviously amused, enjoying this part of the game almost as much as the sex itself. “They paid for the  _ whole _ piece in Alliance gold.”

Claude could have smacked himself for being such a moron. The exact thing he had pointed out was the reason the purchase was so strange. No one carried exclusive coin, even his grandfather paid for major purchases with a mix of coins from all three regions of Fódlan. The only exception was when someone purchased something with a certified writ, but that was paper and arranged between banks and personal treasuries. For the Flame Emperor to pay for his armor exclusively in one set of coin either meant they had redone the brand the Alliance stamped into every coin and done so on their own gold, arranged for newly minted coin to be delivered, or more likely, been collecting for quite some time in an attempt to push suspicion onto another territory.

Claude was more inclined to go for the last option. The first two had too many chances for the roundtable to realize something was wrong, and act on stopping the money flow before it was compromised. It did not help him narrow it down by much, but most likely the Flame Emperor was someone from the Kingdom or Empire. They could also be someone from outside Fódlan, but with how he talked Claude doubted that. The only other thing it told him was that the Flame Emperor had quite a few means at his disposal, which was something Claude already knew.

“There we go,” the blacksmith said, whether to the realization settling across Claude’s eyes, or because he had rested enough, Claude was not sure. He watched as the blacksmith stood, and handed off his mug. 

Claude swallowed past the lump in his throat as he watched the blacksmith remove the rest of his clothes, revealing broad muscles that would make even Dedue think twice before taking him on. He could make Dimitri feel scrawny. 

At the thought of his fellow prince, Claude felt guilt race through him. It was ridiculous, he liked the man, but nothing more. And if Dimitri knew about this...not even Claude could convince himself Dimitri would be disgusted with him. No, Dimitri would make sure he was all right, try to take care of Claude, hating that Claude would feel the need to go through with this in the first place.

“Going to leave me waiting, Duke Riegan?” the blacksmith called out, interrupting Claude’s thoughts. 

Claude’s head snapped up, realizing the blacksmith had taken a seat on the bed, his back to the headboard. He was lazily stroking his cock, waiting for Claude to join him. With as much dignity as he could muster, Claude pushed himself up off the table and stood. Surprisingly, his muscles did not hurt as much as they thought they would. Walking certainly did not take that much effort, despite how long he took to actually get to the bed.

The other three men stood on the other side of the room, continuing to drink and chat among themselves. Claude could feel their eyes boring into his back, heard Wyvern Fucker’s lewd comment about his ass, but none of them made their move to join Claude and the blacksmith on the bed. It seemed this round would be just the two of them.

As Claude neared the bed, the blacksmith’s strong arms shot out to wrap around his waist, pulling Claude into his lap. Claude found himself splayed out across the blacksmith’s legs, his hands resting on the large man’s chest to support himself.

One of the blacksmith’s large hands went to the back of Claude’s head, pulling him into a kiss. Claude squeaked in surprise, opening his mouth enough for the blacksmith to run his tongue over Claude’s teeth.

The blacksmith was smirking when he pulled back. “Aww, you don’t want to kiss me? You’re going to hurt my feelings, Duke Riegan.”

“I’m not a duke yet,” Claude pointed out, annoyed at the reminders of just why the blacksmith wanted him.  And Sylvain thought he had it bad with women wanting him for his crest.

The blacksmith laughed and swatted at Claude’s braid, brows raising in surprise as Claude caught his hand. “That, you don’t touch,” he growled.

He had given away too much, pointed out a chink in his armor, but Claude was not about to have these men pawing at his braid. That was not for them. 

It did not seem to bother the blacksmith. Claude felt that large hand gently caress down his back, tickling his skin in such a way Claude had no ability to stop himself from arching his back, pressing more of himself against the large man. He could feel the heat of the blacksmith’s erection against his stomach, moaned softly as his own brushed against the other man’s member. “Doesn’t seem like this is off limits though,” the blacksmith said, his large hands cupping Claude’s ass and kneading roughly. The man worked him only long enough for Claude’s cry to die off, the scent of lilac reaching his nose again. 

This time the blacksmith’s hands were more gentle, working oil across Claude’s backside before pressing at his hole again. “Need to make sure you’re taken care of,” he explained, voice low enough that the others would not hear, and placed a kiss against Claude’s shoulder.

Claude felt his muscles relaxing as the oil was worked into his skin, realizing it served a purpose beyond making it easier for the blacksmith to fuck him. “There we go,” the man said as he finished, giving Claude’s ass one more affectionate pat before moving his hands to Claude’s hips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you make it through the night.”

Claude snorted, shaking his head. “Of course, your brain will melt in your skull otherwise.”

The blacksmith bounced him, pulling Claude up to kneel above his cock. “True, but right now I’m more concerned with making sure you can keep up. Otherwise my fun is ruined.”

There was something held back in that statement, something that scared Claude when he lingered on it. There was no room in all this for anything close to love, and no, the blacksmith definitely was not holding that back. But there was a softness to his lust, a caring as he handled Claude that the other three had not possessed. 

Those large hands placed pressure on Claude’s hips, and together they lowered him onto that large awaiting cock. Claude gasped as it filled him again, slowly stretching him, his fingers clawing at the blacksmith’s chest as he searched for something to hold onto. But the blacksmith held him steady, and Claude soon found himself bottoming out, trembling as he once more adjusted to the girth inside him.    
  


“There we go,” the blacksmith murmured, using that same tone from before when he had praised Claude. “Take your time, move when you’re ready.”

He expected Claude to ride him? He had expected to have his hips grabbed and bounced up and down as those strong hands lifted him. He had not expected the blacksmith to demand he partake in the work. Claude almost laughed at himself as he placed his hands on the blacksmith’s shoulders. He was going to start sounding like Hilda if he was not careful.

Claude made a decision then, as the blacksmith’s eyes drank in the sight of him. He had met people who had pretended to love him, to lust for him, but they had either used him to try and get close to the throne or lull him into comfort so it was easier to attempt an assassination. He had learned long ago not to let people close. 

But this man did not hide his intent. Yes, he wanted to fuck Claude because of his position, but dealing with someone who for once made their intentions known and honest had thrown Claude off his game. It had led them here. As he raised himself up, only keeping the tip of the blacksmith’s member inside him, he decided to embrace the whole situation. It felt good, at least whatever the large man was doing to him did, and why should he deny himself something that for once made him feel good.

Claude lowered himself, this time without any prompting from the blacksmith. Stars that felt wonderful! He began to move, repeating the motion over and over again, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck for more leverage. 

The blacksmith chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Claude’s neck, and oh, the things that did for him! “Pace yourself,” he instructed, breath warm against Claude’s jaw. 

Claude tried to do as instructed, really he did, but he had just found the perfect angle, and wanted that large cock slamming into him over and over. He whined as the blacksmith reached between them, wrapping his hand around Claude’s cock, only half aware of the laughter from the other three across the room. They did not matter right now. 

He clenched around the blacksmith, triumph flooding through him when the man moaned against his shoulder, practiced lips worshiping Claude’s skin. His hand continued to stroke Claude, as Claude bounced in his lap, holding on tight. And for a moment it was not this stranger beneath him. It was the man he had thought of way too many times since coming to the monastery, Claude surrendering his body to the prince’s cock. The hand upon him was smaller, covered in sword callouses, as she helped the blond bring him to completion. 

Claude threw his head back and came with a cry, only just managing to suppress the two names wanting to rip their way from his throat. Warm cum shot between them, painting both their stomachs, Claude feeling like he was barely hanging onto consciousness. The blacksmith moaned loudly as Claude’s muscles tightened around him, those strong arms holding him up. He whimpered as the blacksmith thrusted up into him once more, fingers flexing against Claude’s sides as warmth spread throughout his lower half.

“Good boy,” the blacksmith breathed out in a whisper, placing a kiss against Claude’s neck. “Good boy.” 

Stars, why did that make him so happy?

He did not get very long to dwell on it. More arms were pulling at him, dragging him off the blacksmith’s lap and throwing him onto his hands and knees at the foot of the bed. Eager hands kneaded his ass, another pulling at his hair to force his head up. 

“Hold his hips up,” one of them instructed.

Whoever was at his back wrapped an arm around his waist, holding Claude up as the man humped against him, sliding his cock between the cheeks of Claude’s ass. Someone grabbed his hand, forcing his weight onto the other one still tangled in the sheets, relying on the man holding him so that he would not simply collapse. Stars above and earth below, they were just going to use him, and his heart was about to pound out of his chest in his eagerness.

A cock was shoved into Claude’s hand, fingers automatically closing around the shaft and beginning to work it with firm strokes. His hair was pulled again, forcing him to gasp, and another cock was shoved down his throat, the man at his back sinking his cock into Claude’s ass at the same time. 

These three made no excuses. They were simply here to use Claude and nothing else. He was nothing more than a few convenient holes for them to use for their own pleasure. They were pounding into him, moans and grunts of pleasure falling from their lips only heightening Claude’s enjoyment of the depravity. He could feel himself responding, his cock growing erect once more.

“Don’t let him cum,” the blacksmith instructed, Claude whining around the cock in his mouth in protest. “I want to use him again, and I need him to be able to stand after that.”

Laughter, like he was the butt of some joke. Well, Claude could do better than that. His tongue wrapped around the cock in his mouth, muscles clenching around the cock buried in his ass. His hand twisted around the base of the shaft in his hand, stroking up and brushing his thumb over the tip, coming back down to spread precum along its length.

Claude made a noise of surprise as hot cum struck his cheek, the man in his hand moaning loudly as he came. The man who occupied his mouth thrusted in once more before pulling out, allowing Claude to see it was Wyvern Fucker, Llamrei standing at his side as he tucked his softened cock back into his pants. Wyvern Fucker wrapped his free hand around his shaft, still holding Claude’s face up. After a few quick strokes, Wyvern Fucker groaned as he came, more cum landing across Claude’s face and neck. 

At his back, Red Nose cursed, pulling out. Claude heard the frantic motions beneath the man’s loud moaning and a moment later warmth hit his back, Red Nose sighing in satisfaction.

They dropped him to the bed, Claude’s arms giving out as he collapsed against the sheets. He moaned softly, hips shifting as he sought friction against his now aching cock. They laughed at him again, but the blacksmith’s demanding voice cut through it. 

“All right, all right, you’ve all had your fun. Get out,” the blacksmith commanded. 

The three men laughingly protested, wanting to see the rest of the show, but the blacksmith was having none of that. There was a part of Claude very glad to only have to deal with the one man who had handled him with any sort of care. 

Claude forced his eyes to stay open as he watched the blacksmith move around the room, reaching down into a wash bowl that sat upon the floor Claude had missed in his initial scan of the room. His hips were still moving against the sheets, humping the damn bed like he could not get enough. 

“Enough of that,” the blacksmith said in an almost gentle tone. He placed a hand on Claude’s hips, keeping them in place as he ran the wet cloth over Claude’s back. His heart leapt into his throat, more tormented by the gentle treatment than when all four men had shared him. “Here we go,” the blacksmith continued, large hands turning Claude over and wiping up the cum that coated his face and chest. 

Those strong hands lingered, fingers dancing over the bruises and hickies already dotted over Claude’s skin. “You look good like this,” the blacksmith complimented. Claude could picture it, him spread out across the sheets, cock hard and eager to be touched, heavy breaths causing a visible rise and fall of his chest as he awaited the man’s touch. He must have looked like the whore he felt he was.

The blacksmith leaned down, warm breath ghosting over Claude’s lips once more. This time, Claude tilted his head up, pressing his lips against the blacksmith’s and wrapping his arms around those broad shoulders. The blacksmith deepened the kiss, moaning against Claude’s lips. His broad form covered Claude’s body, making him feel dwarfed by the sheer difference in their size. 

He felt the tip of the blacksmith’s cock poking at him, and Claude’s mind suddenly snapped back into focus. He raised his legs, pressing the heels of his feet against the blacksmith’s hips to force him back. The blacksmith moved back, blinking down at Claude without judgement in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, that large warm hand caressing Claude’s cheek.

Claude shivered, fighting the urge to lean into the touch. “You still haven’t paid for last time yet,” he pointed out.

“Ah.” The blacksmith settled over him, Claude enjoying that pressing warmth just a little too much. His hand moved up, running through Claude’s hair as the blacksmith pushed it back out of his face. There was such a tenderness about it Claude could feel himself breaking around the other man. When the blacksmith spoke, it was soft and gentle, almost as if he were sharing a secret with an old friend. “The armor design I was given was of an ancient Adrestian origin, back from the very founding of Fódlan.”

Claude’s heart skipped a beat, this time for a much different reason than when it had earlier that night. Very few people had access to something like that. Claude could count them on a single hand. 

“There were a few modifications deemed necessary, but…” The blacksmith trailed off, his finger tracing across Claude’s jaw. “Well, that information gives it away. You’ll have to earn it.”

He had a suspicion, pieces falling into place, but he needed that last little bit to confirm. With bated breath, Claude spread his legs in a silent invitation, his whole body trembling as the blacksmith once more lined himself up with Claude’s hole. 

Claude held on, arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist pulling him in, too overwhelmed by the care the blacksmith showed this time around to do anything else. He could almost imagine this was what it felt like for someone to make love to him. Those talented lips traced over his skin, the blacksmith’s tongue spending a significant amount of time playing with each of Claude’s nipples as he slowly fucked into the younger man. It was too much and not enough all at the same time, and it was driving Claude out of his mind. 

The blacksmith raised up once more, lips pressed against Claude’s chin. He angled his hips, Claude gasping, almost sobbing in relief, as that large cock dragged against his prostate. “You know,” the blacksmith started, words fading into a moan as Claude’s body pulled him in again, “if you ever wanted to give up the life of a noble, I would take care of you. You’d make such a good pet,” he praised, caressing Claude’s cheek. “Such a good boy.”

Claude preened under the praise, for a moment letting himself image it. The blacksmith would have him dressed in rich clothes, easy to tear off or move out of the way. He would stay oiled and ready for his master to use him, willingly showing off whenever his master decided to share him. He would eagerly allow his mouth and ass to be trained for the blacksmith’s pleasure, uncaring about anything else ever again.

But that was all he ever would be to the man, a pet. As enjoyable as this was, Claude was not going to throw away his ambitions, not yet. Byleth’s face flashed in his mind, and he wondered if she were not at his side if it would be easier to set everything aside and accept the offer.

The blacksmith smiled; not a grin or a smirk, an actual affectionate smile. He pressed a hand to the top of Claude’s head, leaning in to kiss him once more. Claude moaned into it, hips lifting to meet the blacksmith’s next thrust. 

“I thought not,” the blacksmith murmured against his lips. “But since you’ve been so good, I’ll give you one piece of information for free.”

Claude’s breath left him in a rush as the blacksmith’s hand moved down his body again, wrapping around his cock. He forced his mind to focus on the man’s words as that large hand stroked him, calloused fingers catching against him and making Claude want to let loose and writhe in pleasure. 

“There’s a rumor going around,” the blacksmith whispered, pressing his lips against Claude’s jaw and trailing down his neck. “The Flame Emperor has offered a substantial reward for your Professor.”

It was what Claude had feared. Desperation took hold of his body, and the desire to race back to the monastery and make sure Teach was okay was very hard to deny. But the blacksmith was continuing, and Claude had to instruct his brain to focus yet again. “They want her alive. I think that little Emperor might have a thing for your instructor, honestly. They want her brought to them before the ritual in the holy tomb.”

The ritual? They were only assigned that this morning. No one outside the monastery should have heard about that yet. It gave more credibility to the theory forming in his mind, and Claude forced his muscles tightening around the blacksmith, wanting to milk his cock dry for that last piece of information.

The blacksmith moaned, his thrusts becoming unsteady as Claude now met him each time with a roll of his hips, offering up all of his body willingly. “Come on,” Claude heard the words falling from his lips. “Fill me up again.”

The blacksmith made a strangled noise, burying his face in Claude’s neck. His hand twisting around Claude’s cock, stroking faster as his thrusts gained more speed. With each one, he fully buried his cock inside Claude, the slap of his balls against Claude’s ass mixing with their moans. Claude was trapped, the blacksmith’s hand working his cock, that large member in his ass slamming against his prostate now with each thrust, and all around him was warmth. He came hard, crying out loud enough to be heard by the entire inn, body going taunt and then limp. The blacksmith moaned, burying his face against Claude’s neck, biting down on his shoulder. He knew there would be a mark come morning, and Claude relished the thought of bearing the blacksmith’s souvenir for the next few days. Warmth once more spread through him, filling him up impossibly full. 

They lay together for a few minutes, both trying to catch their breath. It was the blacksmith who moved first, pulling back and slipping free of Claude’s body. Claude moaned again at the feel of cum escaping down his thighs, shivering at the all too pleased spark in the blacksmith’s eyes as he studied Claude’s abused asshole. 

The blacksmith patted at Claude’s thigh before once more wetting the cloth and gently cleaning up the mess running down Claude’s legs. “You owe me one last piece of information,” Claude managed as those large hands took care of him, so bone weary he was having trouble staying conscious. 

“I do,” the blacksmith acknowledged. He leaned forward, stealing one last kiss from Claude before finishing his clean up and pulling Claude to his feet. “And you’ll get it as soon as you bring me that antidote.”

Claude glared as his clothes were shoved into his arms. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Wasn’t it? I’ll still give you the information you earned, but I need a little insurance that you won’t be the one screwing me now.” The blacksmith easily settled back on the bed, seemingly unconcerned about his impending death. Claude could not fault him really. It was the same thing he would do in the same situation.

He pulled his clothes on, muscles sore in so many wonderful ways, knowing it would be worse if the blacksmith had not used the oil on him earlier. The blacksmith watched him the entire time, a hazy lust still in his eyes that made Claude want to fidget with the hem of his cloak as he pulled it on. The large man unexpectedly pushed himself off the bed, wrapping his arms around Claude’s waist and pulling him in so that Claude’s back rested against his broad chest. “Hurry back,” he breathed against Claude’s ear. “If you do, there might be time for another round.”

Claude shivered even as he shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve got that in me.”

The blacksmith hummed, and Claude could feel that large cock stirring in interest again. Stars, but the man was insatiable! “That’s all right. You don’t seem like the type to mind if someone fucked your unconscious body.”

Claude gulped, forcing his way free of the man’s embrace. There really was no need for him to know Claude had dreamed just last week of Dimitri and Byleth slipping into his room and playing with him while they thought him asleep. “I’ll be back with the antidote,” he said instead. “You’ll give me what you owe, and after that we go our separate ways.”

The blacksmith held up his hands in surrender, and allowed Claude to leave. Weariness settled over him as he closed the door behind him, but Claude forced his feet forward. There was still one more thing for him to do, and then when it was done he could pass out in his room for the day. Teach would be mad he missed class, but there was no way Claude had the energy for any of that after tonight.

He made his way quickly down the steps, the inn now quiet as the night crept closer to dawn. Only a single candle remained lit in the tavern room downstairs, and Claude’s heart stopped when he saw who sat at the table with it. “Teach?”

Byleth stared at him, an eternity passing between them before she stood. It seemed like it took her a painfully long time to stand and make her way over to him, Claude blinking back tears as she reached him. He was grateful his features would be hard to pick out in the darkness. “I saw you go upstairs with those men. I was worried,” Byleth explained. 

Claude breathed deep, shame for the whole thing washing over him in a terrible wave, threatening to crush him completely. “I have to come back,” Claude answered, unsure of just why that was his answer. Teach had a way of doing that to him.

Byleth’s eyes hardened, but after a moment she nodded, falling into step beside him as they began the too long walk about to the dorms. Claude’s muscles screamed for rest, but he forced them forward. Somehow, with Byleth at his side, it was easier to remember why he was doing this. He found he did not want to let her out of his sight, not with what he had learned about the Flame Emperor tonight. Claude would be damned if he let that little cretin get their hands on Teach.

Byleth said nothing on their way to the dorms, kept a look out as Claude grabbed the antidote, and once more followed him as Claude began the journey back to the inn. The only time she stopped was when Claude stumbled, offering her shoulder for him to lean on. Normally Claude would insist he was fine, but he was too weary to even try putting up a false front.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he whispered when they once more reached the stairs leading up to the inn’s second storey.

Byleth’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. She had respected whatever he had decided to do tonight, but she was apparently unwilling to let him out of her sight now. Claude was torn for a minute, not wanting Byleth present for this, but once more that protectiveness of wanting to keep her near him scratching at the back of his mind. 

Claude sighed and gave in, unable to muster any more fight. “All right, but please, we don’t talk about this ever.”

Byleth nodded, and ended up leading the way up the stairs. As Claude’s tired legs managed to climb the last step, he realized Byleth’s face was furrowed, the barest trace of concern on her face. Claude opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but then he smelled it. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, almost as strong as when they stood upon the battlefield. Claude cursed himself as Byleth unsheathed her sword, pulling his own dagger, the only weapon he had brought with him.

Claude slowly pushed open the door to the rented room, both of them standing on either side of the door. They moved in perfect sync, neither needing words to cover the other. As the door opened, the smell grew stronger. Claude’s stomach churned as he peaked in, eyes scanning across the corpses littered about the floor. Blood coated the entire room, the smell so strong Claude could feel the weight of it on the back of his tongue. Llamrei, Red Nose, and Wyvern Fucker were piled together at the foot of the bed unceremoniously. 

But it was the blacksmith’s corpse that truly shook Claude. The large man’s throat was slit, the cut so deep his head was barely hanging onto his neck. He was still naked, blood still wet where it coated his chest, running down to his stomach where an even larger cut had been made, intestines hanging out of the wound.

Byleth grabbed his arm, spinning Claude around and trying to force him back down the stairs. “Move!” she hissed. “I don’t know what happened, and I won’t ask, but we cannot be caught here.”

“Wait,” Claude protested, shaking her off. “Wait!” he snapped again as Byleth reached for him once more. He ducked around her, slipping into the room. He had seen something, and he needed to confirm it. 

Claude made his way to the bed, carefully stepping over the puddles of blood. Clutched within the blacksmith’s hand was a piece of the sheet that he had torn off, his fingers easily uncurling beneath Claude’s touch. He had only been dead for a few minutes, Claude and Byleth barely missing the murderer. 

There was one word on the torn fabric, written in half dried blood.

_ She _

The blacksmith had kept his end of the deal after all.

Byleth grabbed at him again, and this time Claude did not fight. The journey back to the dorms this time was a blur, Claude not even registering the first rays of the sun peaking over the horizon as they slipped into Byleth’s room. He fell into the bed that Byleth guided him to, barely aware of her tucking the covers in around him.

“Teach,” he whispered. “I think it’s the princess.”

His eyes were closed, so he did not see Byleth’s own narrow. “We’ll make plans if it is, once you’ve gotten some rest,” she answered.

Claude did not hear. He had already sunk into a fitful sleep.

  
  
  


Claude woke with a start, the smell of blood and death still clinging to his mind. The person beside him reached out, murmuring softly in her sleep as she searched for him. Claude looked to his side, his heart settling at the sight of mint green hair filling his vision. At his back there was another wordless complaint, the thick arm wrapped around his waist trying to pull him closer.

That was right. That whole thing was seven years ago. 

Claude gently shoved at the arm around his waist, slipping free of the embrace of both his lovers as he crawled off the bed. He held his breath as Byleth’s face furrowed into a frown, reaching out for his warmth. When she found Dimitri instead, she rolled toward him, tucking herself against his chest. Dimitri’s arm easily wrapped around her, holding their Queen close. 

He smiled at the sight, but right now his place between them felt confining. Claude pulled on a robe, wandering out onto the balcony and enjoying the cool desert wind that blew the scent of star gazers and jasmine toward him. He found himself a comfortable position against the balcony rail and leaned back, tipping his head up to stare at the stars wheeling overhead. 

The sight of them made his head clear, and he allowed himself to abandon the obsessive need to plan and plot, to organize every little piece of information and figure out how best to use it for his own advantage. He allowed himself to just be.

“This is where you got off to.” His wife’s sleepy voice called Claude back from the heavens.

Byleth walked straight to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest, positioning her ear over his heart. She sighed contentedly as she snuggled against him, and Claude easily wrapped his arms around her in return. 

Dimitri appeared a moment later, only grumbling and half awake as he joined the impromptu cuddle session. He wrapped his arms around both of them, tucking Claude’s head beneath his chin.

“You two didn’t have to get up,” Claude murmured, kissing the top of Byleth’s head as he leaned back against Dimitri.

“Of course we did,” Byleth protested.

“As if we wouldn’t come searching for you,” Dimitri gripped, his words muffled by Claude’s hair.

Of course they would. They all would. Ever since Claude and Byleth had saved Dimitri at Gronder Field, Byleth almost dying in the process of protecting them both, all three knew the truth of those words. They had worked together, bringing Dimitri out of his darkness, and showing him there was more to live for, Dimitri in turn dedicating himself to their cause. Just as Byleth had done before, Dimitri took up Claude’s dream. They had ended the war, pledging themselves to one another, and started what was arguably the more laborious job of uniting their countries.

“Will you come back to bed?” Byleth asked. “Or do you need some more time out here?”

They all had scars, and Claude honestly did not know how he would deal with his own without the easy acceptance of those he loved by his side. “A little bit longer,” Claude answered, mindlessly threading his fingers through Byleth’s hair.

“Do you need the time to yourself?” The next question came from Dimitri, both of them waiting for Claude’s word.

There were times when he needed the space, needed to not have his thoughts interrupted by the touches and love, but not now. Claude clutched at Byleth, trying to snuggle closer to Dimitri. “Don’t leave,” he whispered.

Byleth lifted her head, pressing a sweet kiss against Claude’s lips. “We’re here as long as you need us, my love.”

Claude shivered in Dimitri’s arms, burying his face against Byleth's neck and inhaling her scent. “Please,” he whispered, the words a vulnerability strange on his tongue even with them. He had to pause, had to remind himself that they would not judge him. They loved him, had proven it to him a thousand times over. And they would do so again at the drop of a hat should Claude ask. 

Dimitri and Byleth said nothing as Claude took a deep breath, continuing to hold him as he worked through his own tormented thoughts. “Please,” Claude repeated, “make love to me.”

They moved together, Dimitri’s lips trailing down Claude’s neck as Byleth’s hands worked to open his robe. “Topped?” Dimitri asked, his warm breath against Claude’s ear making the Almyran King shiver.

“ _ Please, _ ” Claude repeated, melting in their arms as two sets of hands touched him everywhere. They undressed him with practiced movements, moving together easily. Claude’s hands went to Byleth’s nightgown, but she grabbed his wrists, her lips pulling him into another kiss. Claude sank desperately into it, even as Dimitri guided him down to his knees, Byleth following after without breaking away. 

Dimitri reached around him, those scarred hands pulling down the straps of Byleth’s nightgown. This time she did not bat them away, and Dimitri revealed her form to Claude’s hungry eyes. “Stars,” he whispered, leaning back in to pull her against him, heart leaping as her breasts pressed against his own chest. “You are so beautiful.”

Byleth smiled, laying him back against the cool tile of the balcony floor. Her warm body slid over his own, and Claude was not given much time to miss Dimitri’s touch as the other man pulled away. She settled herself across his hips, allowing him to drink in the sight of her above him. His cock rested against her ass, and Claude gave a small buck, sliding against her cheeks. 

Byleth yipped in surprise as she was almost dislodged forward. Claude reached his arms out to grab her, but Dimitri caught her first. Once more Claude was left breathless looking up at his lover. Dimitri resettled Byleth without even straining any of those strong muscles, Claude’s mouth watering at the sight of his half hard cock.

“Do you want it?” Byleth purred.

Claude immediately nodded, eyes not leaving Dimitri. His body remembered the feel of his husband pressing into him, and his heart thundered in his anticipation. He missed the look Byleth and Dimitri shared, not realizing what was happening until Byleth rolled her hips against him, pressing back so Claude’s cock slid against her again. Dimitri stood over him, Claude gasping in a breath as his husband knelt. 

Dimitri leaned forward, and Claude could hear him share a kiss with Byleth, whining that he could not see such a beautiful sight. To be fair, the only thing he could see now were Dimitri’s cock and balls. Above him, Dimitri chuckled, lowering himself until his cock pressed against Claude’s lips. Claude easily opened his mouth, eagerly wrapping his lips around the tip of Dimitri’s shaft. 

Dimitri sank down without warning, shoving more of his cock down Claude’s throat. Claude groaned as Dimitri’s heavy balls slapped against his face, his tongue wrapping around his husband’s cock. Byleth continued to grind herself against him, the two of them picking up their pace and driving Claude insane. Dimitri thrusted into Claude’s mouth again, Claude moaning happily. He loved it when Dimitri just took what he wanted, fucking his mouth without another care in the world. Sometimes Claude wondered if his first sexual experience had ruined him, had turned him depraved, but his lovers did not seem to mind. In fact, they enjoyed it just as much as he did, accepting his preferences as easily as he did theirs. 

“He’s close,” Claude heard Byleth whisper, rolling against him one last time. 

Dimitri growled, shoving his cock down Claude’s throat a few more times before Byleth pulled at him, both of them toppling off Claude. He whined at the loss, rolling onto his side as he searched for their touch again. 

“Shh,” Byleth instructed with a kiss. She settled Claude on his stomach, spreading her legs before him to make room for him between them. Claude stared hungrily at her folds, already wet with slick. Byleth caressed his cheek, holding him back from diving right in. “Patience, my love. We’ll take care of you.”

Behind him, Dimitri pulled up Claude’s hips, spreading his legs enough to create a space for himself behind Claude. The Almyran King whimpered as his husband’s strong fingers, coated in oil, pressed against his entrance. 

“Where did you get that?” Claude breathed out.

“Byleth brought it,” Dimitri answered, sinking a finger into Claude and beginning to stretch him.

Claude looked back to Byleth, matching her smile as mischief shone in her eyes. She shrugged, obviously pleased with herself even as she brushed off the comment. “Look who I’m dealing with,” she said, waving her hand at the two of them. “I have to be prepared at all times.”

Claude turned his head, kissing the inside of Byleth’s thigh. “My clever wife,” he murmured against her skin, Byleth shivering beneath his touch. Her grip loosened, and Claude, no longer held back, surged forward. 

Byleth cried out as Claude’s lips wrapped around her clit, thrusting her hips forward in a silent demand for more. Claude grinned around her, refusing to offer her more while Dimitri was still preparing him.

Another finger sank into him, Dimitri working him open. Claude moaned against Byleth, quickly growing impatient. He pressed back against Dimitri’s hand, wanting more. “Dimitri,” Claude whispered in a rushed breath, “please put your cock inside me. Do it now.”

Dimitri paused, his free hand caressing Claude’s hip. “Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly. “I’m not done yet.”

Byleth’s hand slid under Claude’s chin, forcing him to look up at her. Not that it was a chore, he loved looking at her. But those eyes, stars he could hide nothing from her. After a moment, Byleth turned her gaze from Claude to Dimitri, Claude’s heart leaping as she nodded. “He’s ready.”

She released him, Claude laying a kiss against her folds in gratitude. His tongue played with her, Byleth’s hand tangling in his hair. She did not force him closer this time, trusting in his ability. He knew she simply wanted to touch him, and he was not about to disappoint her.

Behind him, he felt Dimitri press against him. Byleth’s other hand moved to caress his cheek. “Breathe, love,” she reminded him, Claude realizing only then he had immediately held his breath in anticipation. 

Torturously slow, Dimitri pressed into him. Claude was stretched around his husband’s large cock, a dull ache shooting through his body. He knew it would be easier if he had allowed Dimitri to finish preparing him, but Claude had craved that ache, he had wanted the pain that came with it. He moaned against Byleth, finally pressing his tongue inside her as Dimitri fully sheathed himself within Claude’s ass.

They sank into a familiar rhythm, Dimitri slowly moving within him, refusing to go faster until Claude adjusted to the feel of him, especially tonight. Claude matched his own attentions to Byleth’s cunt by Dimitri’s speed. Once Dimitri was satisfied, he adjusted his angle, quickly finding the spot that reduced Claude to a mewling mess. Byleth cried out as Claude pressed more of his face against her pussy, eagerly fucking her on his tongue. Dimitri reached around him, his strong hand gently wrapping around Claude and beginning to stroke his cock in time with each pounding into Claude. 

They were perfectly in time with one another, and Claude embraced it.

Byleth rolled her hips against his face, practically using his tongue to get herself off. If he had the ability to speak he would encourage her, instruct her to use him as she chased her own pleasure. His tongue lapped at her, striking against her and causing her to cry out. The hand in his hair tightened, and Claude sank his tongue inside her again, moaning happily as Byleth threw her head back in a wordless scream. 

Claude rested his head against her thigh, both of them out of breath. But Claude was not done yet. Dimitri was still behind him, still thrusting into him and stroking his cock. He could feel Dimitri stumble, having trouble keeping his rhythm. Claude did not blame his husband, the sight of Byleth in ecstasy was rather powerful.

Still panting and trembling, Byleth forced herself to her knees, crawling to Claude’s side. Her small hand wrapped around Dimitri’s, joining him as together they worked Claude’s shaft. That was all it took really, his two lovers touching him so intimately. Claude buried his face in his arms, muffling his cry as he came, cum splattering across the tiles. 

Behind him, Dimitri growled, Claude’s ass squeezing him tight. He buried every inch of himself within his husband, that warmth Claude had sought filling him. 

He collapsed against the balcony, trying to catch his breath. He was vaguely aware of Byleth and Dimitri touching him, Dimitri sliding free of his body. They were taking care of him, he knew, checking him over for any injuries. 

Dimitri’s strong arms wrapped around him, picking him up and carrying Claude bridal style back to their bed. Claude was too content to protest that he could walk on his own. (The truth of it was that he probably could not have made it back to the bed without assistance.) He sighed happily as the soft sheets enveloped him, reaching out for his lovers.

But they both gently pushed him away, ignoring Claude’s protest as they went about their work. Dimitri cleaned him with a soft washcloth, dragging the fabric over his entire body. Byleth followed along, rubbing an ointment into his skin so that Claude would not be so sore when he woke. Only when they were done did they collapse beside him.

Claude snuggled against them both, easily settling as they wrapped their arms around him. He felt Byleth’s fingers brushing out his hair, Dimitri’s lips pressed against his forehead. Long before he laid with either of them, he had done what he needed to in order to protect them. He would do so again without regret. He would do so as many times as was necessary.

They would do the same for him without question. Claude had come to accept that, but sometimes it was nice to be reminded. 


End file.
